


Neon Lights At 1.30am

by FamilyTrucksterImagines (oncruisecontrol)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncruisecontrol/pseuds/FamilyTrucksterImagines
Summary: Sensory Prompt: "neon lights at 1.30am"





	Neon Lights At 1.30am

ou weren’t drunk, not really, just tipsy enough to giggle at everything Jensen said. Two shots always did that to you, make you happy. In a way, it was nice, and honestly, pretty damn adorable, but there was one thing about it, one little thing that made his stomach churn:

You weren’t often this happy sober.

Three more shots, and you’d be a bit different – still happy, for the most part, but honest. You’d answer any question truthfully, and you’d say all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t without the booze.

He drank a beer slowly while you continued with your shots until you hit seven, and then you laced your fingers with his and pulled him out of the bar and onto the Vancouver streets. You walked with such purpose that it seemed like you had a destination in mind, but you didn’t. You never did. But Jensen followed you anyway, pretending.

You stopped suddenly in front of a liquor store and sat down against the lip of the window, letting the neon ‘open’ sign illuminate your face in pink light. You looked beautiful. Jensen thought about saying this. Jensen thought about saying it often. He never did.

Instead, he sat next to you, your knees brushing against each other. Your head was turned up, staring at the light-polluted sky. An easy smile sat on your lips.

The two of you sat there for a minute or two without talking, you looking at the nonexistent stars, and Jensen looking at you.

“What are you thinking about?” he finally asked.

Your smile grew, just a tiny bit. “This,” you answered.

“This?”

“This.” You nodded. “All of this. Vancouver at 1:30 a.m. Vodka shots in loud bars. 24-hour convenience stores.” You slipped your hand into his again. “My best friend in the whole world.”

Jensen chuckled, looking down at your joined hands.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He did as he was told, meeting your eyes with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I love you,” you said.

“I know. I love you, too.”

You shook your head. “No. I love you, Jen.”

He licked his lips, a nervous habit. “You’re drunk,” he said.

“Mm. I am, yes. I’m drunk, and I love you. And tomorrow morning, I’ll be sober, and I’ll still love you.”

“You just paraphrased _The Dreamers_.”

“You weren’t supposed to know that.”

He chuckled again, reaching up to brush some hair out of your face and behind your ear.

“I loved you yesterday,” you said. “And the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. Stone cold sober.”

He nodded contemplatively. “Okay, well, I repeat: I love you, too.”


End file.
